


Shot Through The Heart

by agentsimmons



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Implied Relationships, Love, Love at First Sight, M/M, Magic, Marvel Cameos, Marvel Universe, Minor Charles/Erik, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, POV Clint Barton, Soulmates, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love, Valentine's Day, kind of, well there is magic in a sense but no powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5890117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentsimmons/pseuds/agentsimmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton of S.H.I.E.L.D. has 14 days to make one of the most difficult matches happen in order to receive a promotion. Natasha Romanov of A.I.M. is not about to make this any easier for him. The fates of Tony Stark and Bruce Banner are on the line, but who will take the shot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shot Through The Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Let there be crack. Let there be shmoopy crack. I woke up one day and felt the need to just write this nonsense. 
> 
> For Clint and Natasha, while I do ship them hardcore, and feel I implied Clint/Natasha, I also did try to keep this readable as Clint & Natasha too. Anything regarding GQ, how they work, what they _intentionally_ feature in their magazine, etc. is all me talking out my ass tbh. Additionally this isn't meant in any way as a promotion of GQ; I almost went with Details as the mag, but didn't for a few reasons. There is some soulmate-type narrative underlying this as well since people have matches. Bonus Marvel cameos and implied relationship(s) scattered throughout. Only lightly edited, apologies for errors, feel free to point out any glaring ones, I'll probably fine-tooth it later.

“You look like something the cat dragged in,” Phil Coulson says to him unceremoniously when he walks into his handler’s office early Monday morning.

“Feel like it too,” Clint says evenly as he sits down in the seat across from him. “So this better be good news.”

“It is actually,” Phil replies in a legitimately chipper tone. Clint straightens up. “It's a matter of a Level promotion. With a raise,” Phil emphasizes and Clint’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. That's a rare occurrence.

“Why do I get the feeling there's a catch?” Clint is suspicious by nature, but even more so if Nick Fury, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., is willing to offer a promotion with more money.

Phil gives him a look that says ‘you really have to ask?’ He then pulls out a file. “What do you know about Dr. Bruce Banner?”

Clint thinks for a moment. “I think I've heard that name a few times. Notoriously difficult target, right? I seem to recall some kind of tragic back story that keeps him impervious to our shots.”

Phil nods and projects the digital file between them. “Dr. Robert Bruce Banner. Age 36. Father was an alcoholic who resented and punished Banner for showing early signs of genius. He also physically abused Banner’s mother until she tried to take her son and leave him. He killed her.”

“Shit,” Clint mutters. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. And got away with it for a while because young Bruce Banner was afraid to testify. Man got drunk one night, told on himself, thrown in the loony bin. Angry orphan Banner was sent to live with his aunt and uncle, but you can imagine the trauma. He nearly blew up his school when he was sixteen.”

“Sounds like a real winner. Are we sure he's the one resisting? Who would want someone with that kind of baggage?”

Phil frowns at him. "Everybody is capable of finding love, Barton. Some just require a little more effort on our part to help them find it. Banner isn't a lost cause. But," Phil pauses before adding, "he may be one of those rare cases where nothing short of his perfect match will get the job done. We're not sure."

"So the promotion is being offered to anyone who can get this sour apple to sweeten up… Let me guess, by Valentine's Day?" Clint gives Phil a testing look.

"The promotion and pay raise does have a Valentine deadline, yes," Phil says with a nod.

Clint shrugs. "Eh, I've faced tougher deadlines. 14 days should be a cinch if this Banner is even willing."

"We have good reason to believe he's ready. He's just back from a sort of spiritual journey. Traveled a lot, took up meditation, volunteered in a lot of impoverished places. He seems to be in a much better place than he was when he left," Phil explains. "Will that translate to making his heart that vulnerable and open? No clue. But it's—"

"Worth a shot?" Clint smirks and lifts an eyebrow.

"Not what I was going to say," Phil retorts.

"Okay, so who are Dr. Banner's possible matches?" Clint asks, leaning forward slightly. If he's only got two weeks, the sooner he gets through this brief and gets out there in the field the better.

Phil swipes at the screen. Clint reels back again at his own picture. "What the hell?"

Phil chuckles. "Kidding," he says and then swipes the screen again. "First up, Rick Jones. Hang up is in the stats. There are concerns that what works there platonically won't translate to a healthy romantic relationship. He's also currently spoken for."

"So he's out," Clint says in understanding. Their agency has protocols in place and one is to never make a mark out of someone currently in a relationship and even after a relationship ends, there's a waiting period before they intervene again.

"Next up is his second best match," Phil says and pulls up a photo of a beautiful brunette. "Dr. Betty Ross."

"Well she seems perfect for him," Clint comments based on first impressions. He's developed a keen eye for this sort of thing. He slowly reads over her profile. "Smart, worked together, has feelings… Oh."

Phil sighs. "It's complicated. They were on and off for a while. He seemed like he adored her, but was too distant. She's adores him, but when he went off to find himself she went and got attached to a Dr. Leonard Samson. The kicker is Leonard is only a short percentage ahead of Dr. Banner as her top match."

"Ouch," Clint sympathizes. "Must be fun up in her headspace. Is she off limits though?"

"On a break," Phil replies.

Clint groans. "Of course." It's that annoying gray area that causes a bureaucratic nightmare for them. All potential matches defined as 'on a break' have to be approved before being made a potential mark. "Well, where there's a will there's a way. If that's what it takes, I won't rule it out."

Phil just nods. That's when Clint notices he has a hesitant look about him. Banner's top match must be a doozy, he thinks just before Clint swipes the screen again.

"Well, fuck."

>>–♥–>

"I still don't believe it," Clint mutters to himself.

In person, Bruce Banner is five foot eight and, while certainly handsome enough, he seems about as extraordinary as the dated wallpaper in the small animal shelter he's currently volunteering his off afternoon at.

 _This_ is the guy? This is the _one guy_ in the _whole world_ that is perfectly matched to… to… _him?_

It doesn't even make sense. If Banner is a hard target, his perfect match is next to impossible. Every agent at S.H.I.E.L.D. has only been trying for the last 15 years. And if that's not enough apparently him and Banner have been dancing around each other for even longer. Apparently now that they're in the same quadrant again, Fury's practically waving the promise of promotion and pay raise like a bounty on one of the most notorious characters dodging the L word on their radar, or at least one of the most prominent.

But, honestly, Clint thinks the data must be wrong. Maybe there was a blip.

There's absolutely no way this guy could be the one person in the world able to catch the attention of _the_ —

"Tony Stark?" Clint hears the man's name fall from Banner's lips and is slightly startled.

He carefully moves a little closer, pretending to look at some nearby kittens, in order to eavesdrop on the man's conversation with a blonde in a tight black pencil skirt and white blouse. He can't see her face, but he can tell by her body language that if he could, it would read with disgusting flirtation.

"Yeah," she says in a casually sultry tone that he has to admit is enticing. "He loves rescues. The event's on the 13th and Stark would like as many local shelters as possible to turn out."

Clint glances over just in time to see a small, thin smile on Banner's face. "Huh. That's not something I expected of him, honestly. Then again I guess it goes to prove you can't judge a book by its cover. And I guess he _is_ into clean energy now." He shrugs and then jots down a note. "I'll speak with the director and pass along the invitation and your card," he says then.

"And here I was hoping I could talk to _you_ some more," the blonde says and Clint rolls his eyes.

"Ah…" Clint can hear the fluster. "Well, it's not my call and I'm only here on my off days. But I'll try to come to the event if the director agrees," Banner deflects.

"You're cute," she says to that. "But I think you may be missing the point a little."

"Um… Okay…"

"I'd like to have dinner with you," she clues him in.

"You'd like to have dinner… with me?" Banner repeats dubiously.

"Yeah, sure. Just because I'm Tony Stark's personal assistant doesn't mean I go for guys like him," she says and another glance over his shoulder shows Clint the startled expression on Banner's face as nameless blonde brushes all of her hair over one shoulder in a swift movement. Clint can just imagine the motion accentuated whatever assets she has.

"Oh." Bruce replies dumbly. Clint is just about to tell the blonde to give it up because she's not even in the guy's top ten when to his surprise Bruce says, "I'm free this evening."

"Perfect!" She says cheerfully and Clint watches her lean over to no doubt write down her name, number and where to meet him. As she does, Clint shamelessly gives her a good look over before turning his attention back to the kittens until she's gone.

"Can I help you with anything in particular?" Banner asks him after a moment.

Clint turns to face him and strolls over to the counter Banner stands behind. "Two fold reason for being here. I'm a representative from GQ here to speak with a Dr. Banner, which I understand is yourself. And I also have some questions about your adoption process, specifically with dogs," he lies; it's a good way to get the guy to trust him. "But first, I have to ask, did she really just say something about Tony Stark?"

Bruce blinks rapidly and then smiles. "Uh, yeah. Pretty wild, huh?" That's when Clint has the beginnings of a hunch as to why he had decided to suddenly accept blondie's dinner proposal. She had unknowingly manipulated his natural soft spot for Stark and it had caused him to project that on her.

Well, on the bright side, if that's the case he knows now that maybe the data isn't wrong. It doesn't make his life any easier, but the data isn't wrong. He glances down at the info regarding the date, glad that Banner hasn't managed to find the time to put it away. He's going to have to get to that restaurant and throw a kink in the date just in case. He may not like his odds of making this match happen, but he's going to give it his best effort.

"So are you interested in adopting a dog then?" Banner asks him, taking him a little off guard.

"I already have a stray I found," Clint replies. "Been thinking about getting him a companion."

>>–♥–>

Tony Stark.

Genius.

Billionaire.

Playboy.

Philanthropist.

Annoying.

Obnoxious.

Self-obsessed.

Eccentric.

Certifiable.

Honestly, Clint could go on all day with a checklist of things that seem to sum up the man's character and he's only been in the room with him for ten minutes.

Honestly, Clint spent about ten minutes with Bruce Banner and he's not only still wondering how the hell these two are perfect matches, but he also feels a little bad for Banner for the raw deal he's being set up for – should Clint succeed of course.

"So you're really from GQ?" Stark asks him, interrupting his train of thought. He points at him with his pen that he's been tapping needlessly and irritatingly against his desk – the same desk his feet are obnoxiously draped across in a laidback, unprofessional manner. "No offense, you just don't exactly look like GQ material."

Clint stares at him evenly. "There's a reason GQ folks aren't on the cover," he replies. 

"Huh." Stark purses his lips and nods slightly with a considering expression. "Fair enough. So what's the point of the spread? Businessmen? Billionaires? Is it an exclusive spread on me?"

Clint makes a show of casually adjusting the sleeve of his shirt jacket to give off an air of having conducted this sort of meeting before and being blasé about the entire process. "GQ wants to do a spread on brainiacs that are still high profile or, well," he shrugs guiltily, "desirable."

Stark seems fooled by the reason. "Well, genius is sexy so makes sense for them to acknowledge it," he says. "But if Reed Richards is in, I'm out," he then says and he moves his feet down and sits up straight.

"I can't say the invitation wasn't extended to him," Clint lies if only because he finds this sudden petty turn slightly amusing and wants to irritate the privileged man. He then uses it to manipulate him. "But only because it's business. He declined and GQ didn't quibble. You on the other hand, we're willing to play ball to get you to join us."

Stark smiles broadly. "Well, I can understand a professional play. Any others invited to this shindig worth noting?"

"Yeah, there's a Dr. Bruce Banner and—"

"Banner?" Stark's face scrunches and he looks away with a narrow gaze as if struck by the name. "I feel like I've heard of his work before, but it's been a long time. Wait, anti-electron collisions, right?" He then flaps a dismissive hand. "Don't answer that, of course that's who I'm thinking of. Thought he'd fallen off the face of the planet. Anyone else?"

Clint opens his mouth again to respond when suddenly there's an interruption to their meeting.

"I'm sorry to interrupt like this, Mr. Stark."

A chill goes down Clint's spine. Given the voice, it's the woman who has dinner plans with Dr. Banner. He turns his head casually, but instead of the blonde at the shelter he's greeted by a sight he hadn't expected. Five foot three, red hair, and pure trouble.

Her name is Natasha Romanov and she's an agent of A.I.M.

_Well, shit._

>>–♥–>

"What do you think you're doing?"

Clint doesn't take things lying down and he's already lost a few targets because she'd gotten to them first. So he sits down across from her at a little out of the way table in the restaurant she'd told Banner to meet her at.

She looks at him with barely concealed irritation. "The same thing as you. A.I.M. has been after Stark for years."

Clint scoffs. "Yeah no kidding. One of your trigger happy bozos for hire practically turned him into a nymph until the effect finally wore off."

A.I.M. is a no-account rival agency that had decided about seventeen years prior that it should be an open market with competition even if they were an amateur organization at best whose agents were typically only in it for the money. True, he probably would have joined them once upon a time if they'd been around when he was a younger marksman. But several years in the field was enough for him to know that there's no comparison to S.H.I.E.L.D.

"That was an unfortunate setback," she admits. "But we were also responsible for his relationship with Pepper Potts."

Clint frowns. He can't deny that… completely. "Only because you took advantage of the guy after a near-death experience." He'd nearly been killed by a crazy ex-employee or something of that sort. "He was vulnerable and reevaluating his life. Of course he'd be temporarily receptive. Notice it didn't last?"

She rolls her eyes very slowly. "You're too soft. Sure, we manipulated the situation, but if we hadn't he wouldn't have gotten enough of a taste of what he was missing for us to have a shot at the bigger prize now."

"You really think the guy's got a heart in that chest of his for either of us to succeed at this?" Clint takes a break from their argument to question sincerely.

She seems taken off guard and he sees it go back up with double reinforcement. "You're going to ruin this."

"Uh, yeah, kind of the point," Clint retorts. "I'm not letting you steal this one from me. I've got too much riding on it."

"So do I," she mumbles and for a moment he's the one taken off guard. She sounds… regretful?

Suddenly something catches his attention from the corner of his eye and he turns his head to see Banner standing up from his empty table with a defeated sort of look on his face.

"What part of standing the guy up makes any sense?" He asks, with a raised brow toward Romanov. "Is it the part where he gives up on love again altogether?"

She glowers at him. "The part where Stark actually shows up within a reasonable amount of time and they're both ushered to the same reserved table fortuitously," she replies.

"That old trick?"

"Sometimes old tricks—"

They both turn their heads suddenly when they hear Banner stammering out an apology and see him standing in front of Stark.

"I wasn't paying attention where I was going," Banner says. "I was looking around for, well, a date that stood me up. Thought maybe there was a chance they were at a different table, but I guess—" He then seems to realize who he's talking to and his eyes widen.

Even from where he's sitting Clint can see the way Stark's eyes rove appreciatively over Banner's form and the way his slightly ajar mouth closes in a way that's probably accompanied by an audible gulp.

"Clearly that person must be crazy," Stark says. "If I wasn't already here to meet someone else, I'd offer myself as a stand-in," he continues without any hint of shyness, unsurprisingly.

Banner looks stunned. "Uh… That is… I'm sure whoever you're here to meet will make for better company for someone of your status," he says awkwardly. Clint cringes a little. "But, uh, I'm flattered, Mr. Stark. Really. Hope your evening goes better than mine," he says with a small smile and hitch of his shoulder.

"Uh, yeah, sure… Thanks," Stark replies, seeming slightly dazed as Banner nods and pushes past him – looking for all the world like he's running from a crime scene. Stark turns and watches him go, still seemingly uncertain of what had just happened.

Clint is uncertain too even if he's seen this a million times. Hell, he's even handled odder matches. But this one throws him a little in spite of past experiences.

"Do you get them?" He asks Romanov genuinely and she turns to look at him, a small crease settling between her eyebrows. "I mean, how do they make sense? How anyone could put up with Stark is one thing, but _that_ guy? And what is it about that guy that's got Stark acting like, well, like he's _the_ guy? I mean I get that he is, but…" He sighs, knowing he's not making any sense. "Whatever."

The crease smooths out as one eyebrow arches high on Romanov's forehead. "Why do you insist on muddling the data? Both men are finally more receptive than they've ever been and they're in the same quadrant. Why should it matter why they work?" She shrugs. "Just take the shot."

"Why should it matter? How can you take an accurate shot if you don't have all the details?” Clint counters.

"I've been managing just fine,” she says to that with a shrug of her head. “Or have you forgotten the marks you missed that I didn't?"

“I _never_ miss,” he says insistently. “And this time will be no different.”

“GQ guy?” Stark interrupts then. He looks back and forth between them before settling his eyes on Clint. “Hey, I admire your pluck, but you’re probably out of your league with this one.” He thumbs at Natasha.

“Funny,” Natasha intones and then smiles, although it's more like a very small quirk of her lips at the corners. “I was just about to say the same thing.”

>>–♥–>          

It had taken a few days worth of setup but Clint had finally managed to rearrange both Stark's and Banner's daily schedules so that they would serendipitously run into each other time and time again. Of course, none of the previous attempts had resulted in more than a few confused blinks, stolen glances, furrowed brows, and more stolen glances because the two men were tough nuts to crack. And Romanov had come along and ruined a few of the better chances of their actually talking to one another.

But now things seem hopeful as long as the red head stays away – though he doesn't count on it – since both men frequent the same hipster-trendy-whatever coffee shop, Stark because it has a certain brand of coffee he likes and Banner because it has a certain brand of tea. Clint rolls his eyes at their differences and the whole cheesy affair of 'coincidence' in this business, but it presents an opportunity since he's managed to get them to visit the place at the same time.

At least, it might present an opportunity if Stark would pull his eyes away from whatever it is he's been reading the entire time he's been seated in a corner booth. By now he should have gone up to buy another coffee, but instead he's been so engrossed that he's barely touched the first. Whatever it is, it looks like a book in binder form. Whatever it is, it's going to keep him from glancing up and taking notice of Banner as he walks right past—

"You again?" Banner stops in his tracks and blurts out. _Well, that works too_ , Clint muses. Stark's head shoots up in surprise and Banner's eyes go wide as if realizing what he's just done. "Oh god," he mutters. "I didn't mean—"

"Hey, no, it's fine," Stark placates immediately. "I would have said the same thing had I noticed," he says, narrowing his eyes a little. "So are you stalking me or am I stalking you? Because, I'm used to being stalked, but…" Stark looks him over. "I've been known to be a little aggressive in my pursuits."

Banner seems taken aback. "Um, honestly, maybe we're stalking each other at this point?"

Stark smiles. "Maybe." He then gestures with his hand to the opposite seat of the booth. "But as long as this keeps happening, maybe you'd like to join me?"

Banner blinks a few times, but then shrugs. "Well, since the universe seems to think I should," he says with a small smile and sits. "So…" he then starts awkwardly, "…do you come here often?"

"Yeah," Stark answers. "I mean, I don't usually stick around, but this is my go to coffee place. It's like my oasis in a city full of crappy coffee. I usually pick up a few to go or have someone make a run for me. I'm practically the patron saint of this place," Stark rambles and Clint brings a palm to his face, rubbing at it. How could _anyone_ want this guy? 'Yeah' would have sufficed.

"Huh," Bruce replies in an earnest tone. "Funny I've never noticed before. I come here all the time too, but for the tea mostly. I mean, the coffee is really good; don't get me wrong. But they have this tea I fell in love with on some travels. Can't seem to find it anywhere else."

"Seems like we frequent a lot of the same places without having noticed it before today," Stark points out with a smile. "Weird how that works."

"Especially since I never expected to frequent some of the same places as _the_ Tony Stark," Banner says casually. Stark gives him a strange look that Banner must take as offense and so he quickly says, "Reading anything interesting? Looks like a dissertation of some sort."

Stark's strange look immediately morphs into one of pleasure. "Yeah, yeah it is actually. It's an unpublished dissertation a friend passed along to me. Written by a brilliant man by the name of Dr. Banner. I'm kind of a huge fan. Can't put it down."

Clint coughs at the same time as Banner. He narrows his eyes and wonders suspiciously at who this 'friend' might be.

"Did you say… Dr. Banner?" Banner asks in disbelief as he looks between the binder and Stark.

"Yeah, why? Know him?" Stark suddenly studies him like this makes him even more amazing. Clint groans a little.

"I… I… Yes. Well, no, I mean…" Banner fumbles, clearly not sure where to go with the subject. "I know of him," he settles on and Clint's eyes widen.

"Really?" Stark looks pleased. "Are you a fan of nuclear physics?"

"I, uh, dabble," Banner responds and Clint's face finds his palm again.

"The guy is practically fapping to your unpublished work and _that's_ what you're going with?" Clint mutters, earning a strange look from another patron.

"That's—" Stark seems stunned. He looks Banner over carefully. "Yeah?" He then flips through the binder and points to a spot. "Here, you have to read this section."

Now Banner seems stunned, but he takes the binder and reads over the indicated section. He furrows his brow and then looks up at Stark to see his extra broad smile.

"Brilliant right?" Stark practically salivates and Clint has to shake his head over the fact that Stark seems torn down the middle by his infatuation with Dr. Banner and his connection with the stranger across from him even when both men are one and the same. He can't quite remember a stranger case.

"You think he's brilliant?" Banner asks by way of response. "I mean… You're into clean energy and essentially turning the market on its head," he points out. He then looks down at the binder he still holds and makes a sweeping gesture at the text with his hand. "This doesn't seem, ah, rudimentary to a man of your genius? Haven't you already made leaps and bounds beyond this?" Banner glances back up with a studious gaze.

Stark takes a gulp of his coffee and then cocks his head with his own studious look. "Leaps, maybe. Bounds, not a chance," he answers confidently. "This guy," he points at the binder, "gets it. Intrinsically. I'm an engineer and, sure, when I study something I can usually figure it out, like I have with physics. Second Masters after all," he brags with a hitch of his shoulder. "But I'm trying to imagine how the market would change if _he_ was the one on the creative end. What we could accomplish together. I'd just like to pick his brain for an hour or so. If nothing else I'd like to ask him why he's keeping all that potential hidden away. With a brain like that," Tony reaches across the table to take the binder back, but in what seems to Clint like a very intentional move places his hand atop Banner's, "the guy needs to strut."

Their eyes lock for a long moment and the chemistry swirls around them. Clint has come to sense chemistry in a palpable way as it alerts him to the ready. Thus, Clint's fingers instinctively reach for his hidden firearm, glancing around at his surroundings – it's not his preferred location – for a place he can take the shot unnoticed.

Before he can find a place, Stark's phone goes off effectively breaking the moment. Clint's face hardens like stone since he can just _guess_ who it is.

"Sorry," Stark apologizes. "My assistant is nagging me to get back to the office."

"Oh." Banner blinks and then shrinks into himself. "Your assistant. Right."

Clint groans. " _Dammit, Romanov_." He sees Stark clearly hesitating on whether or not he wants to leave as his phone continues to buzz with messages. That's a positive sign at least.

"I understand if you have to go," Banner says, extricating himself from the booth first.

"Well, I don't _have_ to," Stark says with a shrug, but winces when his phone goes off again. "I swear she's worse than Pepper," he mutters.

"No, really, it's fine. You're busy and I have, well, my own responsibilities," Banner attempts lamely. "But, this was nice," he then offers. "Never thought I'd get to talk to Tony Stark again."

"Hey, enough of this Stark stuff," Stark chastises. "I'm just Tony to my friends."

"Are we," Banner pauses hesitantly, "friends?"

"Well," Stark says with a smile, "I'd at least like to find out. If you're not busy tomorrow, I'd love to talk some more. Maybe meet you here same time? You know, if we don't run into each other somewhere else first," he jokes.

Banner seems startled and looks down at Stark's phone like it's traitorous, remembering being stood up no doubt, but then looks at the binder before meeting Stark's unwavering gaze. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that," he says with a small smile of his own.

"Great," Stark says as Banner turns to go. "Incidentally, I didn't catch your name," Stark calls after him.

"Incidentally, I didn't give it," Banner responds and leaves.

Clint rolls his eyes at Banner's coyness. Stark on the other hand chuckles softly and turns his head back to look down at the binder. The fond smirk that touches his lips next says it all.

>>–♥–>

"What's the matter, Red?" Clint asks Romanov when she arrives, accompanying Stark, at the legitimate GQ photoshoot S.H.I.E.L.D. had managed to set up, the next mid-morning. "Did I get too close for comfort?"

She shoots her eyes over towards her 'boss' to make sure he's still busy and then back. "Your little trick wouldn't have been so successful if I hadn't been opening up Stark's mind to Dr. Banner with his unpublished thesis," she hisses.

Clint had guessed it was her doing, but something about her statement gives him a second's pause. He's about to respond when Banner enters the room. He has to go straight past them to get to the check-in, but he stops for a moment and blinks when he sees Romanov.

"Huh. Red seems to suit you somehow," he says with remarkable evenness.

"Look about—" Romanov starts.

"No need," Banner interjects, shaking his head. "I'm used to it. I get it. Better prospects came along. They usually do. I didn't actually think you were remarkably interested or anything. No one ever is," he finishes self-deprecatingly.

"Geez, man—" Clint starts, but this time it's Stark that interrupts.

"Dr. Banner!" He calls and then waves a hand at the head photographer in order to dismiss him. Stark then takes several strides over and takes Banner's hand into his own, the physicist himself looking like he's stepped into some alternate universe. 

"Ah…" Banner replies gracefully.

"Incidentally, I figured out it was you – _hmmm_ – somewhere in the middle of our conversation," Stark admits with a guilty smile. "But, hey, we're still on for coffee and tea later, right?" Stark asks as he throws an arm around Banner's shoulders and leads him toward the others already there for the shoot.

"'No one ever is,'" Clint echoes Banner's previous words under his breath.

To his surprise, Romanov snorts in what might actually be amusement. He glances sideways at her and the small quirk of her lips returns to a straight line. She moves to stand closer to the two men and he follows.

"Don't think I won't take advantage of this situation and take the shot if the opportunity presents itself, Barton," she whispers threateningly as they settle into a new spot.

He rolls his eyes. "What kind of opportunity could present itself here?" Clint asks skeptically, keeping his voice hushed although both men seem oblivious to anything other than each other. "This was just a way of throwing them together and hoping something came of it that I can work with later."

"I figured as much." Romanov snorts again, this time in derision. "Which is why I pulled a few strings of my own," she says with a smirk.

Clint furrows his brow, but doesn't have time to ask when the head photographer comes over to the group of scientists ready to begin. "Alright, first up, Mr. Parker I'd like you to do the young college set. Stacy and Watson," the photographer calls to a few young women to come over.

Clint blinks as Parker looks at both of them with _that look_ and the chemistry is palpable. A quick glance at Romanov lets him know her experience in the field has her realizing the same thing.

"Junior's all yours," she mutters.

"Not a chance," he refuses.

"Alright, now we thought we might bring our readers some more overt homoerotic undertones with this particular spread so if a few of you are comfortable with that," the photographer begins directing again and Romanov's smirk returns. The photographer looks them all over before very deliberately settling eyes on Stark and Banner. "You two, yes… I would love it if you two would be up to it. You have something the camera would love."

As the two men agree, although Bruce hesitantly so, Clint has to hand it to the woman beside him. This was clever.

"I might actually be regretting this a little," Banner says to Stark as they move off to one side to prepare for their first shoot while the photographers focus on Parker's for the time being. "I honestly thought it would be just a few simple shots or maybe an interview. This… This isn't my thing. Maybe I should just—"

"Stay," Stark urges, effectively cutting Banner's small panic attack short. Their eyes meet. "I mean, you don't have to, but… I don't exactly want to do a homoerotic shoot with, well, with those guys," Stark says, shrugging his head back in the general direction of the others.

Banner licks his lips as if they're suddenly dry. "But you don't mind… with me?" He asks, studying him. He doesn't even seem to realize that he's unbuttoning his shirt to change into the wardrobe that's just been handed to him.

"I know it might sound crazy," Stark says, shrugging out of his own shirt, "but I really, really don't mind."

Clint looks sideways at Romanov in sync and as much as she talks about not muddling the data, he can clearly see 'is this really happening' written all over her face. She's human after all and just as confused and awed by how this whole messy operation seems to work. When they turn back, Clint realizes the two men seem to have realized they're both half clothed because their backs are turned awkwardly toward one another as they put on the new dress shirts.

"I, uh…" Stark seems surprisingly uncertain for a moment as he glances over his shoulder at Banner and then back forward again. "Also crazy, but there's this Stark Industries thing tomorrow night." Banner turns around suddenly in surprise, shirt front still open and tie draped around his neck. Stark seems to sense the movement and turns around quickly as well, eyes dilating a little at the image. "I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in attending," he recovers remarkably.

"You're inviting me to attend?" Banner gives him a wary look.

"I'm asking you to join me, actually," Stark clarifies.

There's no answer for a long moment, the two just staring at one another. It's only broken when they are suddenly being ushered apart by hair and makeup respectively.

"Y-yes," Banner stammers out while he still has a chance and Tony smiles like, well, like a lunatic or something, Clint thinks.

Clint suddenly turns to see Romanov is hurrying off. He quickly follows. "Where are you going?" He asks her point blank. She stops in obvious surprise.

"You don't expect me to take the shot in the open, now do you?" She asks skeptically, turning on her heels.

Clint looks back over his shoulder, taking in the way Stark looks like the happiest man in existence and Banner, actually smiling, looks like he can't believe his luck. He knows that attraction can only strengthen over the course of the photo shoot, but something about taking the shot here and now feels wrong.

"Not today," he says firmly, looking back to see Romanov's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Not here," he elaborates. "Let them have this. They both need it," he says, trying to convince her of his gut instinct. "Tomorrow. I think the mark is tomorrow. And I won't take it until then."

Romanov studies him carefully. "Even if I tried to take mine today?" she hazards.

Clint takes a breath and goes all in. "Even if."

She looks over his shoulder at the two men. "Alright. Truce. I won't take the shot today."

"Truce," Clint agrees. "And come tomorrow, may the best agent win," he offers with a friendly shrug.

Romanov gives him a determined look. "This isn't about who the best agent is, Barton," she says and he wonders a little at that. "But I'm still going to win."

>>–♥–>

Clint watches from a distance, and hears via bugs he'd planted on the two men earlier, as Dr. Banner and Tony Stark swoon over one another.

Banner tells Stark how he's a little surprised he agreed to such a social setting as he's not one for crowds. Stark replies with a deliberate, "You'll get used to it."

Banner clings to Stark throughout the ordeal of making rounds. Stark shows him off like he's already agreed to marry him.

Stark starts easy conversation that naturally turns into conversation about themselves, their shared interests, where Banner has been these past several years, and interweaves commentary about science and the world at large. Banner, who is far from verbose, practically blooms like a sunflower and he seems to _like_ Stark's manner of, well, incessant rambling is what Clint would call it.

Stark asks Banner to dance. Banner declines. Stark asks again. Banner just smiles thinly and shakes his head. Stark asks a third time and Banner laughs.

"Really, Tony," he says, "you don't want me to dance with you."

"That's illogical," Stark counters. "I've asked you three times. The evidence states that I do, in fact, want to dance with you."

"You want to dance with me, _in theory_ ," Banner corrects and Clint shakes his head at their weird banter at the same time he glances across the room at Romanov and sees her roll her eyes. "You have a hypothesis that dancing with me would be nice, strange hypothesis by the way, but your test of that hypothesis would lead to the conclusion that I'm a bad dancer."

Stark smiles like he's won. "But you, Dr. Banner, are operating under the erroneous conclusion that I care." Banner blinks and Stark leans in just a little. "I'm really just looking for an excuse to have you as close as possible without being thrown out of my own event for indecency."

Banner makes a small, choked noise as he ducks his head. But he quickly looks up again and meets Stark's gaze. They hold it for a long moment and then before Clint can even blink the two men are on the dance floor.

"Oh, yeah," Clint states to himself. "Tonight's the night."

His fingers are already twitching for his bow, but for optimal and longest lasting effect he knows he needs to wait for them to kiss. With the way the two men seem to practically melt in each other's arms, they're only a dance or two away from that sort of thing he thinks.

He spares a glance at Romanov only to see she's not where she was. Immediately his eyes start scanning the party and he finds her running toward an empty mezzanine. Clint curses under his breath and takes off in the same direction to head her off.

"You realize this doesn't make sense, right?" Banner's voice is in his ear as he runs. "You having any interest in a guy like me is…" The sentence trails.

"A guy like you?" Stark counters. "As in handsome? Intelligent? Witty? Completely chill, but with an edge? Did I mention handsome?"

"I'm not—"

"You are."

"Romanov!" Clint calls to her when he's close enough. "I thought you were a better marksman than this. They haven't even kissed."

"I'm getting that shot, Barton," she calls back, two firearms in a holster on her hips. "And I'm getting it now."

"Not if I can help it," Clint says and he finds himself locked in hand-to-hand combat with the other agent in an effort to stop one another.

"You don't… understand…" Romanov grits out. "She's here. She'll ruin everything."

Clint tries not to let down his guard or let off when he asks, "Who's here? What are you talking about?"

"Hansen! She's an A.I.M. agent and when she shows up there's trouble," Romanov explains, although it does nothing to help him understand better. "Worse of all Stark knew her," she adds and then when he's not on his highest guard-

" _Owshit!_ " He groans as she manages to bash his head enough to disorient him and get past him.

"There you are, Stark!" Clint hears a female voice in his ear. "I knew you were cheating on me!"

"What the hell?" Stark responds.

"Don't play dumb with me, Tony. You actually think you can leave me for this manslut?"

"I beg your pardon?" Banner retorts.

"Maya, right? Maya?" Stark sounds like he's desperately trying to diffuse the situation.

"Oh, so you do know her?" Banner asks.

"Once. I think," Stark replies dumbly, burying himself.

"Oh, sure, once. But it was enough wasn't it?" This Maya woman continues her scene. "I know my rights, Tony. You promised you would try to make it work. Well, I'm going to tell the press about our kid, Tony."

"WHAT THE ACTUAL _HELL?_ " Stark shouts now.

Clint tunes out the shitstorm taking place on the main floor when he sees Romanov readying her aim. "What the hell are you doing?!" He asks, trying to steady himself from her earlier blow. "You shoot now and you can ruin everything. They're _fighting_. The mood has been ruined!" A shot now could just confuse them.

"That's precisely why I'm taking the shot," Romanov growls. "Hansen destroyed the mood on purpose to stop this from happening, but she's not going to get what she wants. I'm taking the damn shot."

Clint looks over the balcony and sees the betrayed and defeated expression on Banner's face as he shakes his head at Stark and prepares to make a break for it. He sees the stricken and frantic expression on Stark's face as he pleads for Banner not to leave.

"This isn't right," he mumbles to himself and then looks at Romanov. "These two men need each other!" he shouts at her. He still doesn't get it, but it works and it's special and it's his job to protect what they have and promote it. "You're going to destroy their lives!" He shouts and for a moment she freezes as if he's said something of importance.

"It's a chance I have to take," she says soberly.

It's not a chance Clint can take so he pulls out a firearm and shoots her instead before she can do anything. She falls to the ground, stunned by the blast and she groans as she lays there attempting to recover. He knows their shots don't work on themselves, at least not when they're in the field like this as they wear dampeners to negate the effect, but it still packs a punch – even shots don't make actual contact, rather imploding harmlessly at the last second with a sonic wave.

As for Stark and Banner, it seems the damage this Hansen meant to cause has already been done. Banner has left the party and Stark has called security on the woman and seems to have made a beeline for the bar. Romanov starts to stir and he glares at her as she opens her eyes.

"Why do you care so much about this shot?" Clint challenges angrily and at a total loss as she coughs and pushes herself up off the ground. "Huh? What is this? How much is A.I.M. paying you? Do you need it that badly that you'd risk everything to get it? And why was one of your fellow agents trying to stop you?"

Romanov glares at him. "You expect me to believe you don't do what you do for money?"

"Of course money's involved. It's important. But not at the cost of my integrity," he states with conviction. "This is about love and—"

"Love is for children," she mutters bitterly.

"Then why the hell are you even doing this job?"

Her face turns to ice. "Because I don't have a choice," she says vehemently.

Clint's eyes widen and for a moment there's silence before hers widen too. It's obvious she hadn't meant to say that. She shakes her head and turns her back. After a moment he can see the way she crosses her arms and her head falls downward.

"I don’t have a choice," she repeats, evenly. "A.I.M. isn't an organization. It's a syndicate. They sell the data to the people for profit. Every mark is selected specifically because we're paid by people who want it to happen, like some voodoo love spell deal. Or we're paid to prevent people from connecting," Natasha admits, looking back over her shoulder hesitantly to see his reaction. She then turns her head back. "A.I.M. is corrupted and we've destroyed lives."

There's a long pause. "Then why do you do it if it makes you feel so bad?" Clint asks skeptically.

She sighs. "The thing is, when you join A.I.M. it's by contract. If you try to get out… well, like I said, _syndicate_ ," she says and Clint can hardly believe what he's hearing. "So I've got a ledger full of people's lives I've messed up and Dr. Banner's is potentially one of them. Dr. Ross' father paid us to prevent Banner's relationship with his daughter at a hefty sum. So I was sent to interfere. Banner might have been happy with her, at least happy enough. He'll never know now," she confesses.

"So you're trying to set things straight by helping him connect with the one person that would be better for him than Dr. Ross," Clint guesses.

She turns to look at him and he sees genuine emotion in her eyes. "Partly," Romanov says. "Also, I made a deal with A.I.M. Director Aldrich Killian. If Bruce Banner is matched with someone other than Dr. Ross, her father is willing to pay an extra amount to A.I.M. because then Betty will more likely move on and find her peace. Additionally, we all know Stark is a high profile target. Killian wants that prestige. He wants to use that to convince people to pay us for hits."

"So what's the deal?" Clint asks impatiently as he seethes over the dubious consent underlining Romanov's explanation.

She sets him with a firm gaze. "If I make this match happen, Killian will hand over my contract and I'm free to leave without consequence if I choose. But if Hansen was here, that means he must have changed his mind. I'm his best. I guess he'd rather have me as his puppet than the reward this shot will earn him. And he just won," she says bitterly before walking away.

Clint blinks as his mind reels with the information she's presented him with. Now the question is whether or not he believes her.

>>–♥–>

Clint reaches for a slice of freshly served pizza, but before he can secure it an arrow necklace is deposited in his empty plate instead. He forgets the pizza and smirks at the item. He grabs it and moves it off the plate.

“Cute,” Romanov says as she settles into the chair across from him at the table. He looks at her to see a small smirk on her own lips as well as a raised eyebrow.

“I thought it was a clever calling card,” Clint replies. “The real question was whether or not you would come.”

“I guess you have your answer,” she says evenly. He opens his mouth, but before he can speak she adds, “And if your follow up question is ‘why’ then I was wrong in my estimate of your abilities.”

“Was that a compliment?” He asks in disbelief. She doesn’t reply. “Right. You wouldn’t admit to it if it was.”

“The mission’s been compromised,” Romanov states after a moment of their banter.

Clint shakes his head. “Yeah those two are stubborn in their own ways. Banner especially.”

“Stark has been drunk every day this week so far,” Romanov says with a judgmental air. “As if that's the way to win a guy back.”

Clint snorts. “Especially this particular guy. Banner won't take his calls," he supplies. "Of course it could be because Stark got his number in less than legal ways.” Romanov rolls her eyes knowingly. “So essentially the two idiots have it bad.”

There’s a long, somewhat awkward silence. Clint uses the time to eat half a piece of pizza, ignoring the A.I.M. agent’s judgmental frown.

“Why did you make a different call?” Romanov breaks the silence finally, eyes slit in study of him.

He swallows his current bite of pizza hard and sets it down. “Because I see better from a distance," he answers vaguely at first, but she seems genuinely acceptant of his preliminary response because she hums. "I'll admit. I was looking at this personally. I wanted that promotion. And I wanted to best you. And as far as I was concerned, they make about as much sense together as you and me." She arches an eyebrow at that. "But once I distanced myself, I realized you were right about not complicating matters. They belong together, it's more than obvious, and it's my job to make it happen regardless of why or personal investment." He reaches for the arrow necklace and holds it up, looks at it momentarily and then back at Romanov. "That's why I called."

She tilts her head. "You have a plan?"

"More like a deal," Clint replies. "We're never going to get these two together the way we're going now. You and I, we're too good at what we do. Both of us can't win." She opens her mouth to retort, but he stops her by holding out the arrow necklace toward her. "Unless we work together."

Romanov looks at the necklace untrustingly, but then takes it. "It doesn't work that way."

"It can," Clint assures her. "In fact, every time we unknowingly helped each other in our other schemes were the moments the two idiots seemed to get with the program. We make a pretty good team."

"But we're not on the same team," she points out with a frown.

"No," Clint agrees, "we're not. At least, not officially. But here's the deal. We work as a team to get them back together. You can take the shot on Stark. That's all you need for your contract, right?" He doesn't let her answer. "Once you've hit Stark, I'll hit Banner."

"But what about you? You'd really let me take the shot on Stark?" She eyes him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because like I said, my mission is to make sure those two get together. It doesn't matter who takes the shot as long as it happens and it's done right. I'm trusting you to do this right."

"And?" Romanov can see right through him.

"And maybe I figure you've got more riding on this than I do." He shrugs.

"I could be lying," she points out.

"I know."

There's another long bout of silence.

"It's a deal," Natasha finally agrees and starts to hand back the necklace.

"Keep it." Clint waves a hand and picks his pizza back up. Then he smiles. "It'll look better on you than me."

>>–♥–>

"I know… I know it sounds crazy." Clint doesn't even need to be present to know Stark is a drunken mess. He can just tell from the bug Natasha put on him that streams to his comm link. "But I thought he was different. No," Stark says firmly, "I _knew_ he was different."

"How long did you even know him?" Natasha feigns disinterest.

"Not long enough," Stark answers and he sounds absolutely pathetic.

Banner isn't much better, Clint knows, since the guy's currently sitting forlornly in the booth at that coffee shop he and Stark love so much, practically angsting into his tea. It may be a more silent kind of sorrow than Stark's, but it's there just the same.

"Really, Mr. Stark. He's just one man and you're known for—" Natasha starts.

"He's not _just_ one man," Stark rebuttals. "We connected, you know?" There's no reply. Clint imagines Natasha just cocking her head in askance. Wait, did Stark just _snivel?_ "He… He… He was perfect. Like at the GQ thing? God, I've never been more turned on in my life... and that's saying something."

"So you're just mad he left before you could get into his pants," Natasha retorts, pushing the limits.

There's a banging noise and a loud, "No!" There's a beat of silence. "No. It's not that. For once it's not just that," Stark practically says it like a plea for someone, anyone, to believe him. "He's beautiful. He's… He's brilliant and beautiful and kind of bohemian and breathtaking and—"

"Alright, alright," Natasha interrupts him. "Don't exhaust your list of B words. I believe you. But the way you talk, you'd think it was love at first sight or something."

There's a long beat of silence and then a soft, "I think it was."

Clint smiles and takes that as a nice cue to go talk to Banner while Natasha begins phase two of her conversation with Stark. He gets up and strides across the shop until he reaches the booth.

"Hey there, Dr. Banner," Clint says and he startles.

"Oh, uh, hey," Banner says hesitantly and up close he looks worn ragged.

Clint doesn't even ask for permission to join him and Banner looks slightly affronted, but unwilling to say anything about it. "So, we just got the photos back from the shoot. Saw you over here and thought maybe you'd like to see a few of them. I mean, you seemed to think you weren't cut out for that sort of thing, but damn man." He pulls out his tablet and deliberately opens a photo of Banner and Stark to show to the physicist, who is blinking owlishly while also looking like he might experience a resurgence of the anger issues Clint knows he struggles with. "Your photos with Stark are enough to turn me, not gonna lie."

Banner's eyes dart here, there, and anywhere _but_ the photo for about thirty seconds before he loses whatever inner struggle he'd been having and looks at the photo. Clint keeps his face schooled which is much more than Banner can say because the guy is practically seeping with longing. Clint quickly moves to the next, strategically chosen, photo and Banner actually grabs the tablet with a distant look in his eyes.

Clint waits a purposeful amount of time before effectively breaking Banner's trance by saying, "Not to sound like a perv, but with that much chemistry please tell me you at least got some kind of action out of it."

Banner blinks. "It's…" He sighs and pushes the tablet away. "It's complicated. He's Tony Stark after all." He shrugs and his hands wring together before finding the sides of his tea cup.

Clint laughs. "Yeah. I guess that's true. You're probably right to skip that drama. Everybody seems to want a piece of him or to just use him for his fame." Banner cringes. "Like did you hear about that psychotic lady that crashed an event he had the other night? She was some ex-lover trying to get some fake press by saying he was her baby daddy and he's been cheating on her or some sort of nonsense. That's probably a regular thing for a guy like Stark. Who'd want to put up with that?"

He shakes his head, but when he focuses on Banner again the physicist is looking at him as if Clint's just given him the key to the universe. When Banner doesn't speak, Clint pushes forward.

"You know, I almost feel sorry for the privileged asshole," he says and doesn't miss the way Banner looks offended by the remark, as if it had been aimed at him. "He must be lonely. Oh, sure, the guy could get anyone he wants any time he wants, but at what cost, you know? He has to know most of them just want a story or the connection or something else. If it was me I'd have some serious issues trusting people. But, I don't know. Maybe I'm way off the mark. Maybe the guy really is a first class loser not worth getting to know."

"He's not," Bruce snaps and then blanches a little and ducks his head. He searches the table, eyes roving back and forth slowly, in a thoughtful manner. Then he shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I… Uh, he just… What little I know of Mr. Stark, he's pretty amazing. He… He's worth getting to know if you can, I think."

Clint bites back a smile and gives a nonchalant shrug. "Well, I guess the proof's in the photos," he says, looking down at the tablet before putting it aside. "So I hear there's an adoption event in Central tomorrow?"

>>–♥–>

"I… Yeah, I can't do this," Stark says to Natasha and Clint's head falls back on his neck.

"Correction." Natasha pokes him forcefully in the chest and Clint has to smile a little at her audacity with a man of his status who's currently her 'boss' of sorts. "You _will_ do this. And your liver will thank you for it later."

"He _hates_ alcoholics," Stark protests. "Has good reason from the little he shared with me. I'm kidding myself here."

"You're not an alcoholic, just an asshole. But I have it on good authority he can be one too when he feels like it," Natasha counters. "Now stop being a thirteen year old girl with a crush and go talk to him."

"He's going to think I'm stalking him," Stark tries one more time as she pushes him and he points at her over his shoulder.

"You hacked GQ to get his contact information," Natasha replies evenly. "Safe to say you are. Now go." He opens his mouth for another protest, but even from where Clint is standing Natasha's look says it's a bad move so he shuts it again and makes his way toward the area set up in the park for Banner's shelter.

"Idiot one is en route," Natasha then says to him and Clint snorts. "I'm taking position now."

"Idiot two just spotted idiot one," Clint fills her in with his hawk eyes. "Alright, looks like he's standing his ground. He looks like he's about to have a panic attack, but he's standing his ground," Clint adds and this time Natasha snorts.

"Wait, did Stark actually just pick up a puppy?" Natasha asks him.

"Can confirm," Clint replies as he watches the two men.

Banner doesn't pay any immediate attention to Stark, helping a father and his son and daughter, attempting to pick out a puppy, who were there first.

"I want this one, daddy," the little girl is close enough for it to be heard through the bugs on both men. "Please?"

"This one seems cooler," the little boy protests.

The father gives a long suffering sigh and for some reason Stark inserts himself with a small chuckle. "Do you have children?" the father asks him.

Stark looks pointedly at Banner. "No, I definitely do not," he says meaningfully.

"Well, then take my advice and don't have twins if you ever do," the father says with a shake of his head and then looks at his children. "We don't have room in our apartment for two dogs, darlings. There's barely room enough for two kids," he teases gently.

"Hmm, this little scamp seems like a good one," Stark offers the puppy in his arms.

"Ah—" Banner starts to interrupt and they all look at him in confusion. "It's, uh… Just, little scamp there is a Newfie and Australian Shepherd mix. He, um, yeah, he's going to get pretty big. They call Newfies bear dogs for a reason. And Australian Shepherds need a whole lot of stimulation. Not exactly an apartment dog. More like, more like an estate or farm dog."

"Oh dear," the father says with dry panic while Stark looks down at the puppy in his arms with an almost manic sort of glee at the prospect. "Thank you," he says to Banner with a nod. He then looks at his kids. "Come on. Let's look at a few of the other stands and we can discuss it."

The boy and girl pout a little, but stand to their feet. They each move to opposite sides of the father as he places his hands on their shoulders and guides them away.

"Sorry, Scamp," Stark says to the puppy, "I tried."

Banner hazards a small smile while Stark is focused on the canine. "Yeah, Scamp there needs to go to someone special who can take on that kind of challenge, but it doesn't seem like there's many interested or capable parties yet."

"I'm interested," Stark says with a hitch of his shoulders before putting the puppy back down in the pen.

Banner blinks. "You're just saying that."

"Okay, maybe a little," Stark confesses. "But I like challenges. And I like coffee," he adds as if it's supposed to mean something. Clint has a sneaking suspicion it does and that Banner understands. "And I like dancing. I like a lot of things really. You know," he takes a few steps closer to Banner, "I happen to really like physicists with deliciously dark eyes and dark curls." They hold each others' gaze for a moment until Stark breaks it, looking down guiltily. "Incidentally I like apologies. Well, okay no, that one's a lie. I hate them. But for you I'm willing to make an exception so I'm sorry."

"For which part?" Banner asks in an impish sort of tone. "Not telling me you had a kid or stalking me?" Stark doesn't answer and Banner sighs. "I'm the one who's sorry. I don't know why, but the thought that you were just going to use me like a, what was it, manslut?" He starts to laugh, but it dies in his throat when Stark wraps a hand around the top of one of his arms. He looks down at it as he finishes, "It made me panic because, well, I really can't explain it, but I wanted more than that. It's my fault for letting myself get carried away. We barely know each other."

"You didn't get carried away," Stark says and Banner's eyes snap back up to lock with Stark's. "Using you was the furthest thing from my mind. I know I have a reputation and probably a whole closet full of baby mamas," he jokes and Clint hears Natasha groan in sync with himself, "which, actually, statistically, one of them _may_ have a case somewhere, but—"

"Tony..." Banner cuts him short with a small, wry smile. He then looks down at Stark's hand and places his own atop of it as if to punctuate his point. When he looks back again, Stark is fully focused on him again and their stare is more intense than before.

"This is it," Clint says knowingly.

"Copy," Natasha says and a quick glance sees her readying her firearm.

"On my signal," Clint adds needlessly as he focuses back on Stark and Banner.

"Hope I'm not moving too fast for you, but I can't help it. I know we barely know each other, but... You're different, Bruce," Stark says as his other hand cups one side of Banner's face tenderly. "I've never met anyone like you and I may be a little out of my element because I don't know what to do with that," he says honestly.

Banner looks a tad sheepish as a wide, genuine smile spreads across his face. "Well, if you're interested in potential theories," he says, "I've got a few we could test."

"I like the sound of that," Stark replies earnestly as their faces inch closer together. "For science," he adds a final tease before their lips crash together as if no longer able to be kept apart.

"Take the shot," Clint declares and readies his bow in a swift motion.

A shot is fired from Natasha's firearm and sails through the uninhibited line toward its intended target. A few seconds after Clint lets loose an arrow. The marks reach both men in near sync, imploding around them and releasing their magic.

The two men open their eyes wide and break apart a little. They search each other's faces like they've just laid eyes on one another for the first time and found the answer to absolutely _everything_. Then like they're the only two people in the world their limbs tangle together, bodies pressed close together, as they breathe each other in with a long, tender kiss.

Clint can't help but smile a little sentimentally. Sometimes his job is weirdly rewarding.

>>–♥–>

"Lucky, get back," Clint shoos his dog as he tries to get out of his apartment. He's already running late and doesn't have time to chase down his dog, although he would of course if it came down to a choice. "I'll be back later, buddy," he says, petting him a few more times to placate him and then manages to get out the door.

However, his eyes fall on an envelope lying underneath his welcome mat, causing him to pause in his rush. He looks around and then reaches down to grab it. Standing back up straight, he flips it over and on the front are words in red ink that say: _I owe you_.

Clint furrows his brow and opens it. His eyes then widen as he pulls out a contract. He doesn't have to turn to the signature page to know it's Natasha's contract with A.I.M. He smiles and pushes the contract back into the envelope and then pushes it into his mail slot before heading off again.

On his way to work, he grabs a crappy coffee and stops at a news vendor briefly when his eyes catch sight of a few magazine covers practically shouting about Tony Stark's recently announced, passionate and very serious romance with Dr. Bruce Banner. Those magazines happen to be strategically placed alongside GQ's new issue, also monopolizing on the story, with Stark and Banner featured on the cover. Clint caves and buys the GQ magazine as a sort of trophy for himself and then hurries on to work.

"Fury's office," Coulson says to him within seconds of getting there. Every now and then a friendly 'good morning' would be appreciated.

Clint keeps his thoughts to himself and follows him to the Director's office. He quietly sits down in a chair at his desk. Fury's standing on the opposite side, his back turned, and he seems to be looking at something. When he turns, Clint sees that it's the GQ magazine. Fury closes it and tosses it onto his desk.

"Twinsies," Clint quips, setting his own onto the desk.

"Good work, Barton," Fury says evenly. "Looks like they'll be okay. Now about that promotion."

Clint frowns and narrows his eyes. "Promotion, sir? The hit was a little over a month ago. I just assumed—"

"I know what you assumed," Fury interjects before he can finish, looking at him pointedly. "I've read the report. You let Romanov take the shot on Stark."

"It just seemed like the right thing to do," Clint begins to defend himself, but Fury raises a hand to stop him.

"No need to repeat it," he says impatiently. "But you made sure Stark and Banner got their shit together and you did it within the requested time frame," Fury explains. "By accounts that qualifies you for the promotion."

"Why now?" Clint asks, a tad suspicious.

"I was just getting the position ready for you, Barton," Fury replies. "Maybe Coulson failed to mention this, but the promotion comes with a partner."

"A partner?" Clint's head falls forward a little. "Okay, well, with all due respect to you and my supposed partner, I'm more of a loner."

"And here you got my hopes up with your little 'we make a good team' speech, Barton."

Clint straightens up. Five foot three, red hair, and pure trouble. He whips his head around to see Natasha coming over to him, Coulson right behind her. He blinks a few times when his eyes land on the arrow necklace resting around her neck.

"Natasha?" He looks at her and then at Fury for answers. He doesn't have to wait long.

"After we found out Agent Romanov here was released from her work with A.I.M., we made her an offer to come join us," Fury explains. "Seems Miss Romanov was inclined to take us up on it."

"Even when I mentioned she'd be saddled with you," Coulson adds jokingly, though his voice barely changes in inflection.

"You want us as a team?" Clint raises his brow and glances back and forth between Natasha, Coulson and Fury.

"Strike Team Delta," Fury supplies. "After intensive study of the report from your missions with Stark and Banner, I'm convinced it would never have happened without your working together. You're two of the best agents out there and I think it's worth seeing how this goes."

"You already have a mission for us," Clint says knowingly and sighs a little.

"And it's a difficult one to test us," Natasha adds, catching on quickly.

Fury practically smiles, clearly pleased. "You think Stark and Banner had issues?" He snorts and looks over at Coulson.

"Estranged lovers," Coulson explains and Clint groans. "We're dealing with two men who are a top match, but found each other on their own. We never stepped in. There was an accident that left one with a handicap and the other blames himself, leaving him with deep seated remorse that he mostly runs away from instead of dealing with it."

"Charming," Natasha intones.

"They've been estranged for about ten years and now to complicate matters there are children involved." Coulson looks between them. "This one may take some deep recon and a few months to pull off, but it'll give us a feel for how much you're able to handle as a team."

Clint looks at Natasha and she meets his gaze evenly. A closed-lip, grin slowly spreads across his face as he thinks he might not mind this unexpected new arrangement.

"When do we start?"


End file.
